


When the Cat is Away

by Notsohappycamper



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:30:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3134531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notsohappycamper/pseuds/Notsohappycamper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian and Cole continue to be curious about one another. Especially during dull afternoons when the Inquisitor has chosen to leave them behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Cat is Away

“You don’t like it when he does this,” are the sudden words that make Dorian’s bones nearly separate themselves from his flesh.

He makes a rather undignified and effeminate noise that he wouldn’t in a million years admit to making afterward when Cole seems to materialize from beside the bookcase he was leaning against. The ancient tome tumbles from his fingers, and its thud against the stone is the ending note to his gasping cry of fright.

“Maker’s...! Cole! Why!” the Tevinter hisses out, scrambling to right himself and gather his composure. He bends down and picks up the book to give his hands something to do.

When he turns in a huff to furrow his eyebrows at the young man, he is met with a face akin to a sorrowful puppy.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Dorian. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Cole says quietly, afraid that talking too loud will make Dorian more upset.

The mage, however, is much more painfully aware of the other people standing around them and staring at the spectacle they are making of themselves. He sets the book down on a nearby shelf and steps between Cole and the rest of the seeking eyes in one suave motion.

“I know you didn’t,” he reassures, snagging Cole’s sleeve between his fingers. “Come with me.”

By the time the two of them make it outside the stone fortress, under the hazy glow of the sun, and, most importantly, away from meddling eyes, Cole has perked up considerably and now even gives Dorian a light smile when the man turns to face him. ‘That’s better,’ Dorian thinks.

“You remember all those things I’ve said about reading my mind in the presence of others, yes?” he asks. “About how it’s anything but okay?”

He’s still shaken, but he’s feeling better now, Cole realizes. His tone is jovial and he’s enjoying the words he’s saying, like he wants to keep joking around forever. He likes it when he jokes because it makes him feel funny, makes him feel like others think he’s funny, and he loves that so much. Jokes can hide pain sometimes, but now is not one of those times. Cole wants to tell him that he thinks he’s funny, but he doesn’t, because that’s not what he came to Dorian to talk about.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. He’ll say it as many times as he needs to, but this time seems enough.

“It’s _okay_ ,” Dorian assures, near exasperation. “Just tell me what you wanted to talk about.”

“You’re not feeling well,” Cole tells him, more as a fact than an observation. “You’re not sad, but you’re not happy, either.”

He takes a pause as Dorian crosses his arms. “You’re not afraid, but you’re not comfortable. You don’t like it when he does this, but you feel you don’t have a right to say anything about it. Fingers grasping at books, at words, letters, at something - anything - to take up time. To make me feel useful to somebody - to you. I want to be out there, don’t leave me. Take me with you to change the world, _please_.”

Dorian’s lips slide into a frown, but he says nothing.

Cole takes it as a cue to continue. “He doesn’t feel that way at all. He doesn’t want to leave you behind, like he doesn’t want to leave me behind. Like he doesn’t want to leave Vivienne behind. But there’s only so much room for error, I can’t risk all their lives at once. Dorian hates the Storm Coast, the sight of the sea, it makes him sick. Iron Bull wanted to go back there, I can’t disappoint. I want to please them all while keeping them alive at least.”

When Dorian’s eyes grow wide, Cole offers him a smile. “He cares about all of his friends. About you. He just wants to make everyone happy all at once.”

There is a small silence as Dorian soaks it all up like a sponge.

“Well...” he clears his throat, having to regather himself once again. His more-than-friendly feelings for the Inquisitor are new, budding sprouts, and to have them tossed out in the open all willy-nilly makes him feel more vulnerable than ever. Though, it is incredibly nice to know where the Inquisitor stands. “Thank you. I suppose. That does make me feel a tad bit better about my abandonment issues.”

More jokes, Cole thinks, but these are not to be funny. These jokes are to hide behind. Cole doesn’t like the idea of hiding from pain. He thinks it’s so much better to just do something about it.

“You spend a lot of time in the library when he doesn’t take you with him, Dorian,” he states, suddenly.

Dorian is still thinking on the matter, and the doubt and the pain are not entirely gone, but, with Dorian, thinking for too long can sometimes turn facts over onto their heads and transform them into something ugly. Something painful.

“Hm,” Dorian hums, not at all budged from his own mind, “ yes, I do.”

“And you want to get out and do something important.”

At this, Dorian looks up and cocks his head thoughtfully. “Yes, that does sound like something I would want.”

Cole can no longer resist fidgeting with the frayed cloth at his wrists.

The sun is bright at its apex, but it is dark under the wide brim of his hat. He tilts his head up to let sunshine touch the edge of his chin.

“Would you want to do something with me?”

Dorian feels a mix of emotions, the first being regret at even leaving the library in the first place. Eventually, impulse and doubt meet each other somewhere in the middle and end up shaking hands.

“That... depends. What do you have in mind exactly?”

Cole’s lips twitch into a light smile.

*

“What am I _looking_ at?”

Dorian looks up from where he is sitting cross-legged on the grass and brandishes a bright, charming grin. Cole takes it a step further and leaps to his feet to greet the newcomer.

“Hello, Cassandra!”

They are sitting like a pair of children in the courtyard, in front of the flowerpots the Inquisitor uses to grow important herbs for his potions.

Dorian couldn’t have been persuaded to come from his library and his books and kneel on the dirty ground to tend to some plants for all the coins in the world, but Cole had been the one to ask him, and Dorian just couldn’t find it in his heart to refuse. And they are the _Inquisitor’s_ plants, after all...

The point is that he is not having fun tending a garden at all. Why would he? There’s soil under his fingernails and the ground is too hard to sit upon comfortably. He just likes to be out in the sun is all. This is what he tells himself of course, but he and Cole both know better.

Cassandra looks as confused and disgusted as she should look, having strolled in on their gardening adventure. The little knot between her eyebrows makes Dorian want to kiss her cheeks.

“What you are looking at, my dear Seeker, is the careful upkeeping of the Inquisitor’s delicate plants,” Dorian informs her, as jovial as ever.

“That’s what I had feared,” she responds, her nose crinkling in distaste. She glances around to the nearby people lounging in the courtyard and, after deciding none of them have been staring for too long, cocks her hip and gazes around Cole to examine the pots with curiosity.

“Would you like to help us, Cassandra?” Cole asks her, following her gaze. His voice is full to bursting with eagerness and excitement, and Dorian cannot help but nod just as eagerly from down beside his leg.

The former Seeker takes her time to look at the both of them, scoffing when Dorian raises his eyebrows at her. When she turns on her heel, her movements are jolted and hesitant, like she isn’t sure of how her body should move.

“Of course not,” she asserts, with a confidence her movements do not possess, “I have important things to do.”

“Oh, don’t be such a stick in the mud!” Dorian calls after her, which makes her quicken her pace as she walks away.

When Cole descends to the ground in silence, Dorian honestly worries that the kid could have been hurt by Cassandra’s refusal, though as he racks his brain for something comforting to say, Cole is the first to open his mouth.

“She really wanted to help with us. She thought it sounded like fun,” he whispers, like they’re sharing secrets.

It brings Dorian great delight to see that his expression is anything but hurt.

*

“Was it nice to do something with me, Dorian?”

They’re back in the dusty, old library, away from the sun, with Dorian leaning coolly against a bookshelf and Cole slouching with his head down as if he wishes to disappear into the floor. ‘All is as it should be again,’ Dorian thinks, bittersweet.

“It was very nice, Cole. I had a lot of fun. Did you have fun?”

“I did,” Cole says with a nod. His hat sways with the movement. “The colors of the plants were pretty.”

“Maybe you should let our Inquisitor know you’re fond of them. He might name you as the official Keeper of the Garden.”

Cole looks up with wide eyes. “Do you think I’m qualified to be the official Keeper of the Garden, Dorian?”

“More qualified than anyone else around here. I haven’t sat out in the grass under the sun in... Well, since I was a child.” A wistful sigh accompanies the memories flooding into Dorian’s mind. “It was rather nice, wasn’t it...”

“I sit out in the grass all the time,” Cole tells him, slowly. “It’s a good place to think.”

Dorian is teetering on an edge right now, he realizes. He’s fixed the hurt of being left behind, of not feeling important enough, but there is still sadness that comes from what they did today. Memories of times before. With family and friends. With family. With Father. Father.

He’s still healing, gradually. Next time Cole senses the pain, they could do something else that maybe won’t bring the sadness back. He could help Dorian hide from the hurt, like he uses jokes to do sometimes.

“Maybe...” Cole begins. Instead, he decides, he will help Dorian do something about it. “You could sit with me out in the grass again sometime.”

Dorian had picked up the book he was examining before and had begun to flip through it, but now he stops and looks up at Cole. They both feel as his mind is weighed down by uncertainty, and they both feel as it crawls out from under that weight and stretches as he did today under the sun.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Cole.”


End file.
